


In Time

by engineDriver



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Ballroom dancing!, F/F, Harold they can't talk to each other, Post-Canon, Post-Game, cameos from other characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-18 19:09:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19340791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engineDriver/pseuds/engineDriver
Summary: "Now, guided by her muscle memory, she rests her right hand on L’Arachel’s bare shoulder. It is warm to the touch. L’Arachel places her hand on her arm. Eirika shivers. She extends their hands outwards and their bodies towards one another. Her heart pounds ahead of the three-quarters time, and she takes the first step forward."





	In Time

_It’s funny how you always remember_

_And we’ve both done it all a hundred times before_

_It’s funny how I still forgot…_

_To think that we could stay the same_

_But we’re two slow dancers,[last ones out](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUfkfJfsKrc)_

 

Eirika pulls the white gloves tight up to her elbows. She prays that the strained seams won’t pop.

She takes the moment on the outdoor balcony to rotate the clasp on her golden bracelet underneath her wrist. With a slight _snap_ it breaks. Eirika gasps, catching the bracelet in time with a spare hand. Sighing, she drops the broken bracelet and its matching partner in the small purse at her hip.

Well, at least everything was balanced now.

Now ready to face the ball again, Eirika closes her eyes and opens the French doors.

A large crowd of revelers in gowns and suits cluster on the parquet floors. Couples sway both in and out of time to the string quartet. Natasha taps Joshua on the shoulder, who dances with Artur. He bows to his current partner, kissing him on the hand, and glides off with Natasha. Artur’s face glows, hand rising to his cheek. Other ball-goers gather at the tables flowing with spirits, smoked meats and nuts from Frelia, and Jehanna figs. Lute, through the bites of nuts she pops in her mouth, argues with Knoll and leers over the taller man. White-faced and white-knuckled, the dark mage clutches the table, hunkering further downwards at every verbal blow she strikes upon him.

And at the center of the ball, Ephraim shakes hands and greets the guests who congratulate the new king. He nods confidently at the noblemen dispensing their words of wisdom, but Eirika spies him bashfully rub the back of his head. She waves towards him with an encouraging smile, and her twin beams. Excusing himself, he moves through the parting crowd.

“Eirika!”

“Ephraim! How are you doing?”

“Pretty good,” he exhales, facing towards the crowd gathered around him, “Lots and lots of people left to talk to.”

“Good luck!” Eirika winks at her twin, “Well, if you need someone to rescue you, just wave me over!”

Ephraim chuckles, “I’ll keep that in mind, might need a nap soon.”

Eirika nods with a small smile, and turns away. There is a slight tap on her shoulder.

“Hey, I’ve seen most of the others out here… Innes, Tana, Gerik’s group… but where’s L’Arachel?”

Eirika’s smile drops. “Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her yet.”

“Huh. I thought she’d be here. Well, I know we’d be able to hear her at least,” Ephraim laughs. “Do you know if she’s coming?”

She shakes her head and readjusts her feet. “She should be here soon.”

“Well, I think I should get back to receiving people now, but if you do see her, let me know, okay? But I’m sure we’ll all know the moment she steps through the doors!”

He squeezes her hand before returning to the crowd. Eirika touches the side of her chin, turning away.

She had lied to her brother. The Princess of Rausten had not contacted her since the end of the war.

On their last night in camp, L’Arachel presented her with a letter on stationery cut as delicate as a doily. She asked her to please keep up a correspondence. The campfire light flickered across her grinning face. Eirika gulped as she silently accepted the envelope, the reality of their imminent separation now tangible in her hands. She swallowed back the words she was too fearful to share with the princess.

How much she enjoyed spending time with her, taking walks and sharing hot kettles of tea. How she found her smile beautiful. How she wanted to invite her to Renais, to walk on trails through the forests, read poetry together on her favorite bench in the castle grounds, and share the warmth of the fireplace in the evening. 

Instead, she quietly mumbled that she would share her courier information the next morning and shuffled back to her tent. That night, she didn’t sleep, gathering the courage to confess like bundles of twigs to burn a fire in her stomach. Her fingernails dug into her palms.

At dawn, Eirika emerged from her tent, determined- but found Seth sitting by the fire pit. L’Arachel and her retainers had already left in the twilight. A heaviness weighing down the warmth in her chest, she considered borrowing his horse and catching up to the small caravan, but the frown on his face indicated that she had missed the opportunity.

She departed for Renais later that day, quietly sniffling the whole way, leaving the letter unopened. It remained in her cedar chest tucked between the armor and sabers she traded for robes and reports of the restoration effort. Now in her ball gown, Eirika adjusts her gloves, contemplating whether she should go to the balcony again. But before she makes a decision, another guest interrupts her musing.

“Eirika!”

Tana’s enthusiastic voice rings out, waving at her and clutching Syrene’s hand.

“Oh Eirika, isn’t this fun?” she gushes, hugging her friend, “I’m so glad we’re all here tonight!”

“I’m glad to see you too, Tana.” Eirika nods towards Syrene, “And it’s nice to see you again, Captain Syrene.”

The woman shakes her head, “No need for formalities, Lady Eirika. And congratulations to both you and your brother, I’m sure you’ll be an excellent advisor.”

“Thank you…” she trails off bashfully and nods towards their linked hands, “I see you both came together?”

It now is Tana’s turn to blush. “Y-yes, isn’t it usually customary to not attend these things alone?”

Syrene chuckles and squeezes her hand. Eirika giggles.

“Well, I don’t have a date tonight, but I’m fine with that.”

“That means you’ll have more people to dance with then, won’t it? You should ask L’Arachel to join you!” Tana winks and gently squeezes the other princess’s hand.

“W-well, I’ll ask her when she comes,” Eirika tries to smile.

“Let me know when she shows up, okay? I can’t wait to ask her if she’ll visit me in Frelia!” She grabs Syrene’s hand and nods towards the dancing couples, “Would you like to join us?”

Eirika’s smile is genuine this time. The two women link hands with her as they dance in a circle, out of beat to the music. Tana tugs on both of their arms, back and forth, laughing. For the first time this evening, Eirika laughs full-heartedly.

After another song, the princess bows towards the other women, who return the gesture.

“I’ll leave you both be, but thank you for these dances-”

Before Syrene and Tana get the chance to thank her, the large doors to the ballroom creak open.

“Haha! I have arrived!” a booming voice announces from the doorway.

L’Arachel glides into the ballroom with Dozla, ever at her arm. Everyone watches the Princess of Rausten, luminous in forest green and spun gold, bow to Ephraim, who bows back at her. She squeezes him in a hug, nearly lifting him off the ground. After being set back, the king adjusts his robes and jacket. L’Arachel laughs. Eirika gulps.

“I missed you, King Ephraim! And what a regal ball this is!”

“I missed you too, Princess L’Arachel,” Ephraim laughs nervously, “Thanks for coming?”

For a brief moment, L’Arachel turns towards Eirika. Her open-mouthed smile closes and she nods politely. Eirika attempts to nod back. She mumbles an excuse to Tana and her date and disappears among the crowd. To her relief, she finds Kyle and Forde engaged in a debate about their schedules guarding Ephraim and sneaks in between them. They briefly bow towards the princess and continue arguing about who will guard him on jousting nights.       

Eirika stiffens at a slight “Ahem” and tap on her back and. L’Arachel stands in front of her, hands tucked behind her back, shyly smiling.

“Good evening, Princess Eirika,” she bows slightly. Dozla greets her as well and bows more deeply.

“P-Princess L’Arachel,” Eirika bows, “Thank you for attending. You as well, Sir Dozla.”

“I apologized to your brother for our late arrival, our carriage hit a pothole on the way here and broke a wheel!” she huffs, “I told my dear uncle’s advisors that we really should improve Rausten’s roads and modes of transportation, but they won’t ever listen!”

“Gwahaha,” Dozla laughs heartily, “You should be the minister of infrastructure, Princess L’Arachel! But we made it here, all thanks to a spare wheel!”

“Yes, thankfully our resourceful driver had the foresight for such emergencies!”

Eirika laughs nervously along with them.

“I’m glad… you made it,” she smiles, tucking in her chin.

“As am I.” Eirika notices a slight twinkle in her eye and her lips curl upwards.

Dozla laughs and excuses himself, waving towards Garcia and Ross. L’Arachel and Eirika smile politely at one another. Eirika looks off to the side, coughing.

“How are you, Miss Eirika?”

“Oh, well, hm.” Eirika coughs again, “Things are okay here. Rebuilding is coming along. Many people have lost their homes in the collateral so I’m helping to secure building supplies and funds for new shelters-”

“Oh Eirika, always so noble in your disposition. Putting other people before yourself. But I was asking about how _you_ are.”

Eirika blanches. “Ah, well, fine. And you?”

“Rausten has been ravaged by war as well, though it faced less destruction than your own nation. Almost everything now is as beautiful as it was before!” she pans her hand outwards over an imaginary landscape. “But as for me, I am fine as well.”

“Ah, well. Good. And your uncle, Lord Mansel?”

“He recovered from his injuries and is back in excellent shape!”

Eirika nods, shifting in her heels. They both turn towards the dancers.

“I’ve never had the chance to come to Rausten before… I can see how everyone has banded after the war. It’s nice for all of the citizens to come and celebrate on a night like this,” L’Arachel’s voice is noticeably quieter.

“Yes, everyone has worked so hard. Ephraim is going to be a good king, and he’s been strong throughout this restoration for everyone. The people admire him for that and they’re celebrating him.”

“Eirika, you have strength too. You led an entire army before reuniting with your brother.” L’Arachel frowns, “You shouldn’t underplay your own accomplishments, Renais will benefit from your leadership as well! I heard you were made one of the king’s personal advisors!”

Eirika tries her hardest not to blush, “Yes, yes, I was. And thank you, L’Arachel. I’m sure that Rausten will benefit from your guidance as well.”

L’Arachel beams and unfolds the fan in her hand, lightly waving it. “My, there are so many people here, I think I’ve seen everyone from our party- Prince Innes, Gilliam, Duessel, Knoll… oh that poor man looks so ill,” she tuts, “And everyone is dancing so beautifully! Did they _all_ receive lessons?”

“We did host lessons in the castle courtyard for a week. It was well attended…” Eirika trails off, watching the woman at her side. Candlelight glints off the chain and jewels wrapped in her hair. A curl tucked thoughtfully behind her ear, exposing her neck. Goosebumps rise up on her exposed shoulders.

She abruptly finds green eyes staring at her own. “Eirika?” L’Arachel asks quizzically.

Eirika blinks.

“M-May I dance with you?” Eirika exclaims to her own surprise. What was she thinking? She hadn’t attended those dance lessons herself, what had it been, nine years since she last danced? What a fool she would make of-

“Yes,” L’Arachel’s smile widens and she bows into a deep curtsy. Eirika returns the bow and without thinking, reaches for L’Arachel’s hand, remembering as her instructor guided the eleven-year-old Eirika out on the parquet.

Eirika had only learned to waltz from the following position, letting her instructor guide their movements. But she had studied his movements too, a hand gently guiding the pair along, mirroring his footsteps to the point where she could do them from behind. In her bedroom alone, she practiced leading.

Now, guided by her muscle memory, she rests her right hand on L’Arachel’s bare shoulder. It is warm to the touch. L’Arachel places her hand on her arm. Eirika shivers. She extends their hands outwards and their bodies towards one another. Her heart pounds ahead of the three-quarters time, and she takes the first step forward.

They move slowly across the floor, L’Arachel’s feet following her partner’s. As Eirika steps back, she steps forward, and as she steps forward, L’Arachel steps backwards. The springing motion of Eirika leaning towards her partner’s frame, beginning a turn. Their skirts twirl around their feet.

L’Arachel grins widely as they glide along and Eirika can’t help but mimic her partner’s smile, beaming as she tilts her chin and takes wider steps across the floor. She spies Tana dancing, Syrene’s hand hooked in her waist, whose mouth has now formed into a perfect circle. She mouths something to Eirika, who still blushes slightly even though she could not hear a thing.

Stepping slightly just before the up beat, Eirika nearly trips on the hem of L’Arachel’s skirt. She halts and apologizes profusely. Her partner bursts into a fit of giggles and soon enough, Eirika joins her as well. L’Arachel leans in closer to her, lips slightly parted, and rests her head against her shoulder blade. Eirika blushes, readjusting the hand on her shoulder down to her waist, pulling her in closer. Her heart still misses the beat.

 

* * *

 

The two princess remain on the floor for hours, shifting between composed, on-the-tempo waltzing to a more careless swaying and sashaying. Eirika has to force them both to stop so that they can get a drink of water and spot of fresh air. And then, they come back to the dance floor.

Long after the string quartet has played their finale, packed up, and the guests trail off to their own homes or guest rooms, the two slow dancers remain in the dimly-lit ballroom. Dozla winks at them and tells the princesses he’ll be waiting outside. L’Arachel lazily drapes her arms over Eirika’s shoulders, a brilliant sheen of sweat over her face, her curls drooping. Eirika gulps and gently drags both of her hands towards her partner’s waist. Their legs trudge back and forth, knees occasionally bumping into one another.

“Eirika… I missed you.” L’Arachel rests her head against her chest.

Eirika folds her chin on top of her head, “I missed you too.”

“I’m sorry.” L’Arachel says, almost a whisper.

“For what?”

“My scant communication these last few months… I should have tried to write. But I missed everyone so terribly, that the thought of contacting you again made me want to cry. It only served to remind me that we were all apart. Rausten has been rebuilt, but I only have Dozla and Rennac there. Not you.”

“No, L’Arachel. I should apologize,” Eirika pulls away and frowns. “You were the one who gave me that letter. You took the first step in keeping contact, but I, I never opened it. I should have contacted you.”

She gulps, “…I wanted to give you my correspondence too, but you had already left early that last morning at the camp. I didn’t get to you in time.”

“Oh.” L’Arachel hangs her head.

Eirika bites on her lip, gathering the courage to ask her the question that troubled her for months.

“Why did you leave before I had the chance to give it to you? I told you that I would be back in the morning.” Eirika swallows back a lump, her chin wobbling.

The princess drops her hands from her shoulders.

“I thought you were tired of me. You weren’t excited when I gave you my address, it seemed like you weren’t thrilled with the prospect of maintaining contact. You made pretty quick time in getting back to your tent, so I knew that you and I didn’t need for me to stick around.”

The weight returns to Eirika’s chest. “Oh, L’Arachel, no. I would never… I never wanted to be rid of you. I was sad that we were both leaving, I think I realized that when you gave me your letter. I wasn’t ready to face that I might not see you for a while or ever again. I’m sorry that I was so rude that night. I wanted to share my address with you too… and something else.”

L’Arachel removes one of the gloves on her hands and dabs at her eyes. “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst, I’m sorry I left. That must have broken your heart.”

“I forgive you and I’m sorry for hurting you,” Eirika sniffles, “I should have been braver. I thought I was protecting myself, but I only hurt you.”

The other woman, still teary-eyed, hands Eirika her other glove. She laughs and wipes her eyes.

“I forgive you and I understand,” she smiles sadly and gently hugs her. “I missed you so much and spending time with you. I’m glad we got to clear this up.”

“Me too,” Eirika tucks her head against her shoulder.

“…You said that there was something else you wanted to share with me?”

Eirika’s jaw slackens and her face reddens, and she considers excusing herself. But she knows that she _must_ be brave, she _is_ brave. In jumping off the cliffs of Frelia while Tana and Ephraim cheered her on down below. In leading the armies of four nations over the Jehanna sands. In rising up to confront an old friend. In taking the first step forward.

“L, L’Arachel…. I’ve known for a while that I never want to be apart from you. I didn’t want to say goodbye to you that night, and I never want to again.” Her hands return to L’Arachel’s waist, bringing them both closer. The other woman places her hands on her arms.

“Do you… you don’t have to return to Rausten right away… don’t you?”

“Well, I think my uncle should be able to manage things in my absence. _And_ I gave Rennac a long list of my daily duties.”

“Ah, well then… would you like to spend the week with me in Renais, as my personal guest?” Eirika asks almost abruptly.

L’Arachel’s eyes sparkle in the candlelight. “I would be so honored! And I don’t intend on losing you again either, I promise!” she winks at her. “Eirika, I hope that we won’t have to be apart for so long ever again. Whatever you or I do, I want us to follow each other.”

“L’Arachel…”

She wraps her arms tighter around L’Arachel, who nuzzles the side of her neck. Eirika places her hand on the angle of her chin, bringing it towards her. She tilts her own head to kiss her. L’Arachel pulls Eirika in closer, hand supporting the back of her head and deepening the kiss. She steps back with a smile.

“Eirika, after my visit here, would you like to come back with me to Rausten, stay with me for a week?” she asks quietly.

“I think my brother can’t get the kingdom into too many disasters in that time, so yes. I would love to join you.”

L’Arachel moves to kiss her again. Even though there is no music playing, they sway to their own movements, the waning candlelight flickering around them, the rhythm of their hearts and breath. For now, they don’t discuss further arrangements for the future, but they both know they’ll figure it out in time.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank [Blossoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeBlossoms/profile) for organizing L'Eirichel Week 2019! This is one of my all-time favorite Fire Emblem ships and I'm so glad I was able to participate... in time. This originally was supposed to go along with Day 5's prompt of "Dance/Future" but I won't have time that day to post it, so I'm jumping the gun here! Please read the other contributions to L'Eirichel week too on here and on Twitter, where there is some marvelous fanart! 
> 
> I'm still hoping to write a L'Eirichel "Twelfth Night" AU, though I'm having to table it for the time being, but I tried my best to capture L'Arachel's Shakespearean style of speaking here.


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